If Memory Serves

by Vanessa Davis Griggs

  Charity shook her head. “I made my way back to Motherphelia. That’s when she made me promise I wouldn’t tell a soul what happened. It would be our secret until she told me otherwise. She was going to fix everything, but she needed me to be a big girl and do exactly as I was told. I was to go to my room and not come out until my mother came and got me. But I refused to leave her side. Later, I heard sirens and then a loud pounding on our front door. Someone identified himself as the police and demanded that we open up. ‘Go now,’ she whispered. ‘Quickly.’ I froze. ‘Now!’ she yelled, still barely above a whisper. ‘And don’t forget, not a word to anyone.’ She smiled, then looked at my mother, who then grabbed my hand and dragged me to my room. I was crying more than ever now. I didn’t want to leave Motherphelia there like that. She needed me. My mother shook me and told me to stop it and to be quiet. For Motherphelia, I did as I was told.”

  Sapphire held Charity in her arms. There were no more tears now. It was as though Charity had successfully depleted her reservoir.

  Sapphire moved strands of hair out of Charity’s face and brushed them back in place. She looked in Charity’s eyes. “It was an accident, Charity. An accident.”

  Charity shook her head. “Yeah, an accident. Only, he died, Sapphire. My grandfather died because of me. And I never told a soul what happened that day. I’ve never talked about it with anyone, including my mother. I suppose, in part, because I didn’t remember. Faith and Hope made certain of that. And that secret became the tri-fold cord that bound us together.”

  Sapphire pulled Charity down on the couch by her shoulders as she herself sat down. “Charity, what happened with your grandmother?”

  Charity’s eyes began to glaze over. “They took her to the hospital. Not long after that, Mother told me she’d died.” Charity looked intensely at Sapphire as her lips began to quiver. “I never got to see her again. They didn’t even let me go to her funeral. Motherphelia went to be with Jesus. She left me, and it was all my doing.”

  “Charity, you rarely talk about your mother. What happened with her?”

  Charity shook her head slowly. “After my grandmother died, my mother became what people in the neighborhood called ‘a certified alcoholic.’ Ironic, huh? But I suppose, just as I had done, she found her own way to forget. And I don’t have to tell you this, but life as we’d known it was never the same again.”

  Chapter 23

  Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain....

  Isaiah 40:4

  “How are you feeling now?” Sapphire asked Charity. “Drained, but okay. I just wish I could understand how I could have blocked something like this completely out of my mind all these years. It makes no sense.”

  “To your mind it made sense. May I make a suggestion?”

  “By all means,” Charity said.

  “Don’t dwell on it now. What’s important is that you have remembered and that you’re coping wonderfully, from everything I’m seeing now, anyway,” Sapphire said.

  “Sapphire, why do you think my mother allowed me to go all of these years and never talked about this with me? I was a child. I needed her.”

  Sapphire took her by both hands. “Your mother probably never knew how much it affected you. She may not have realized anything was even wrong with you. And since you never mentioned what happened, she likely concluded you were fine and it was best not to stir up the bees, so to speak. Plus, it sounds to me like she started self-medicating with alcohol. I’m curious, though. When she found out about your Dissociative Identity Disorder diagnosis this year and that you were being treated, what did she say?”

  Charity stood and rubbed her hands slowly together. “To be honest, I haven’t told her about my disorder and what’s going on with me. I figured she had her hands full without all of my burdens. She drinks excessively, and she’s married to this man who, I’m convinced, beats her, although she works hard to hide it. When I relocated to Birmingham back in 2001, I was looking for a fresh start. I tried to get her to come with me, but my mother is never going to leave New Orleans. It’s her home. It’s all she’s ever known, and she’s not the type to move out of her comfort zone.”

  Sapphire nodded. “Which is why she stays with someone who abuses her. Though painful, it’s familiar to her. In her mind, at least she feels she knows what to expect.”

  “Yeah. She gets drunk, passes out, and claims she doesn’t remember much of what happened before or after that. Me, I developed Dissociative Identity Disorder, a.k.a. multiple personalities, with my manifested personalities being Faith and Hope. I allowed them to deal with things I didn’t want to deal with. But honestly, I didn’t want to dump my troubles on my mother. That’s why she didn’t come when I was in that facility. She knew I was having some problems and was getting help, but she didn’t know the severity of what was going on. I suppose it’s about time I come clean and tell her everything.”

  Subtly, Sapphire glanced down at her watch. It had been almost three hours since she’d first arrived. “How do you think you’ll tell her?”

  Charity pursed her lips, then bit down on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure. But I know I need to go home and talk to her face to face. Maybe discussing what came about that day will release her from her own torture as well. I would also like to find out what occurred after the police came inside the house, and what they were told took place, as well as what happened with Motherphelia. I don’t know any of these things.”

  “Since no one seems to have been charged,” Sapphire said, “it was likely ruled either self-defense or an accidental shooting.”

  “Well, I think I’ll be visiting New Orleans in August. My mother usually takes her vacation then. I can go spend the week with her since I can’t get her to come visit me,” Charity said. “She and I can catch up, and maybe I can do a little investigation into the parts of this story I don’t know, now that I recall what actually took place.” Charity looked at the digital clock on the mantel. “My goodness, look at the time. Sapphire, you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. My bill this time is going to be a whopper.”

  Sapphire grabbed her purse and stood up. “I do have to go. But we’ve accomplished so much tonight, thanks in part to Faith and that message she wrote. Faith must have known what would click for you. Now valleys in your life have been exalted. Mountains and hills have been made low.”

  Charity smiled. “And the crooked places have been made straight. Or at least, we’re working on them.”

  Sapphire walked to the door. She stopped and turned around. “I would like to know what exactly it was that made things click for you.”

  “The gun, which I’d forgotten about, and recalling ‘Mr. Lucious’ in the context of how things were.... How much Motherphelia loved him. That last paragraph Faith wrote, for some reason, brought back a flood of memories I’d gone to much trouble to forget.”

  Motherphelia loved him, that much I’m sure. Who could resist his smile and infectious laugh? But nothing could rival with her love for Charity. And that day, she proved there was nothing she wouldn’t do when it came to her greatest love—Charity.

  A little after Sapphire left, Charity picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hello,” a woman’s voice on the other end said.

  “Mother, it’s me—Charity.”

  “Charity, baby! It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I’m so happy you called.”

  Charity was relieved her mother sounded sober. “Mother, there are some things I believe you and I need to talk about. I’d like to come home when you take vacation if you don’t have any major plans. I really need to see you. I want to talk to you about that day.”

  “What day, baby?”

  “That day Motherphelia and Mr. Lucious, my grandfather, got shot and died.”

  There was suddenly an eerie silence.

  “Mother, I remember everything. Everything. And you and I need t
o talk. There are things that have happened over these years . . . things I’m positive you can’t possibly know concerning me. Things I’ve dealt with because of what took place that day.”

  Charity could hear her mother as she began to cry. “You remember? Everything? You remember everything, Charity? All of it?”

  “Yes, everything—all of it. Everything except what transpired after you took me to my room.”

  Her mother seemed to quickly compose herself. Her voice became strong and commanding. “I tell you what. You come home to New Orleans the last week in August. Come, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. It’s past time we finally lay this to rest. I think Motherphelia would want that. Yeah, I know she’d want this now.”

  Chapter 24

  And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered My servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?

  Job 1:8

  It was Tuesday, and Johnnie Mae had been in the hospital for a little over a week now. Charity had visited her at the hospital several times. On her last visit, she told Johnnie Mae all she’d learned about what had caused her to split into multiple personalities. Johnnie Mae was both enthralled and amazed at how the mind could find a way to protect a person the way it had done with Charity. She hated what Charity had gone through, but it was evident by her bubbly attitude, coupled with her now-more-balanced personality, that she was going to be all right. Johnnie Mae could see traits of Hope and Faith alongside the Charity she had known and grown to love dearly over these past months. With God’s touch, Charity was completely being made whole.

  Landris was in his office at church. He made it a point to go by the hospital and see Johnnie Mae in the morning hours before he went in to work. In the afternoon, he would pick up Princess Rose from the summer day-camp program she was attending and take her with him to see her mother. He’d been off all day on Monday, so he was able to spend more time with both Johnnie Mae and Princess Rose. Tuesdays, no matter what was going on, were always hectic for him, but this Tuesday had been unusually so.

  “Pastor Landris, Angel Gabriel is here to see you,” his executive assistant announced over the intercom.

  “Thanks, Sherry. Please send her in.” Landris hit several keys on his computer just as Angel walked in.

  “Thank you, Pastor Landris, for seeing me at the last minute. I know how super busy you are and that you’re trying to get out of here so you can get to the hospital.”

  Landris pointed to the burgundy leather chair as he smiled. “Have a seat. It’s fine. All a part of the life I’ve chosen. You said it was important.”

  “It is. I’ll get right to it.” She opened up a red folder. “You know I’m handling all of Johnnie Mae’s personal, book-related, and church business for her while she’s out. Well, several things have surfaced that need to be addressed immediately, but I realized I probably shouldn’t show them to Johnnie Mae at this time. Especially since the whole idea is to keep her as stress-free as possible while she’s in the hospital.”

  “And please know I appreciate everything that you’re doing toward that end.”

  Angel pulled out a letter. “This was delivered today.” She handed it to Landris. “It’s from a lawyer. It appears Johnnie Mae’s mother has rescinded the power of attorney from Johnnie Mae and granted it to Johnnie Mae’s oldest sister, Rachel.”

  Landris read the letter, then released it. It floated like a feather, then dropped like a rock to his desk. “I don’t believe it,” he said, shaking his head while twisting his mouth.

  “Those were my sentiments as well.”

  Landris picked up the letter and leaned back then forward as he bit down on his bottom lip. “The nerve of them to claim Johnnie Mae is not in a position to carry out her duties in executing their mother’s affairs while she’s in a delicate state herself.” He shook the letter. “Johnnie Mae doesn’t need to have to deal with something like this. Rachel knows she’s in no position to fight her; she’s fighting for our baby. That’s why Rachel chose now to do it. I knew she was being too nice. It figures she was up to something.”

  “It is disheartening when family members do things like this.”

  “Well, don’t you worry. I’ll handle this one.” He put the letter back down on his desk.

  Angel sat back in her chair. “But if her mother’s condition is getting worse—”

  “Her condition doesn’t appear to be any worse now than it was six months ago. In fact, her medication seems to have stabilized her. Rachel just believes this is an ideal time to take over. She’s counting on Johnnie Mae not being able to fight her, that’s all.”

  “At this stage, would Johnnie Mae’s mother even be considered competent enough, by the legal system, to sign a legally binding document to change anything?”

  “I’ll admit Mrs. Gates has stretches where her mind is present and very lucid. It’s possible she was fully aware of what she was doing when she signed this. Then again, it’s also possible Rachel took advantage of her during one of her confused states. I’m going to speak with my sister-in-law myself, although I don’t know what good it will do.”

  “Well, while you’re talking to her about that, you may want to discuss this document with her as well.” She handed him a thick packet of stapled pages. “Rachel is also having the house changed out of her mother’s name into her own.”

  Landris took it and started reading. He couldn’t do anything except shake his head and laugh out of frustration. “I do not believe this. Yet, there it is . . . POA, Rachel Turner. And according to this, with the exception of Johnnie Mae and their baby brother, Christian, who remain to agree not to contest it, all of the other siblings have signed off on it,” Landris said. He threw the packet on top of the other paper. “Goodness. What next?”

  Angel pulled out yet another piece of paper with an envelope clipped to its back. “Well, I hate being the bearer of more bad news, but Johnnie Mae received this certified letter from Jean Cannon, one of Princess Rose’s aunts on her father’s side.” Angel handed him the letter. “She says she’s called and left several messages for Johnnie Mae to call her. Since Johnnie Mae hasn’t done so as yet, she’s sending that certified.”

  “Jean wants Princess Rose to come and stay with her while Johnnie Mae is in the hospital,” Landris said without bothering to read what the letter said. “I haven’t even mentioned her calls to Johnnie Mae. Johnnie Mae will never go for that. There’s no way she wants Princess Rose all the way up in Chicago while she’s here in the hospital. No way. I told Jean that when she and I spoke last week. I thought that was the end of it.”

  “According to that”—she nodded toward the letter—“it’s not. She obviously has a problem with you keeping her niece. She believes Princess Rose should be with family. And since no one in her family is presently in a position to take Princess Rose for the weeks or months that may be needed while Johnnie Mae is in the hospital, she feels the only option is for Princess Rose to come to Chicago and stay with her.”

  Landris looked at the letter and began to read it. When he finished, he tossed it on top of the ever-increasing stack. “I’m not going to lay this on Johnnie Mae. I’m not. So I’ll call Jean and talk to her again. Princess Rose is fine where she is. She’s happy in her own home. Princess Rose doesn’t even know this aunt, and it’s not because Johnnie Mae hasn’t tried to get them to spend time with her. But after Solomon died and she married me, his entire family cut off communication with both Johnnie Mae and Princess Rose. Of course she would choose now to want Princess Rose to visit her. But I can’t do something like that to Johnnie Mae. It’s just not a good time. Jean must know this.”

  Angel placed the empty folder on the corner of the desk and sat up straight. “What if you ask Johnnie Mae . . . just to be sure? She really might not mind her staying with this aunt while she concentrates on her health and the health of this baby,” Angel said.

  “When Princess Rose wal
ks in that hospital room, Johnnie Mae’s face literally lights up. I know her. If I tell her what Jean wants, it’ll cause nothing but more stress. She’ll be trying to figure out if that would be the best thing to do, knowing that Princess Rose may be distressed about going, knowing that she doesn’t want Princess Rose to go or to feel abandoned during all of this. Things are hard enough right now on both of them as it is. Besides, Princess Rose has Johnnie Mae’s family around. And she’s used to them.”

  “Still, why not let Johnnie Mae know what’s going on and see what she thinks about it? Then you’ll know how she’d like you to proceed. Johnnie Mae is strong.”

  He hunched his shoulders. “I just wish I knew what Jean’s really up to.”

  “Well, on a more positive note, Johnnie Mae has gotten another stack of mail from fans of her books. The word must be circulating that she’s in the hospital. I literally have a bucket full of cards, letters, and e-mails to carry to her. Johnnie Mae insists I bring them to her even though she’s supposed to be resting. I see how much they cheer her up. There are definitely a slew of folks who care about your wife, no denying that.”

  “Yeah, I know. We’ve had to funnel many of the flowers she’s been receiving out of her room. It was so many, the nurses said they were sucking up all the oxygen.” He chuckled. “I thought they were joking; I quickly learned they weren’t. Now when she receives flowers and fruit baskets, she takes off the card to see who sent them, then gets a nurse to carry them to some elderly or other patient who may not have received much, if anything, in the way of gifts or visitors. It works out all around.”

  Angel retrieved the folder off the corner of the desk and stood up. “Do you want to keep all of those?” she asked, pointing to the papers on his desk.

  “Yeah, I’ll handle them. And thanks for screening things and not just passing them on to Johnnie Mae. I’ll have to pray about these,” he said, placing his hand on top of the stack. “Johnnie Mae has a right to know what’s going on, but I don’t want to do anything that will upset her or put her or our baby at more risk right now. I just don’t.”